


Old Money

by iamamiwhoami



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Betty is a Journalist, Blossom & Lodge, Conspiration, F/F, F/M, Light Smut, Marriage, New York Mafia, Veronica is protective, cheronica, cheryl is soft, old money, open-ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamamiwhoami/pseuds/iamamiwhoami
Summary: If she has to deceive fate, she will.If she has to fight everything she knows, she will.If she has to break her own world, the only one she knows, into pieces, she will.Because Cheryl is worth the risk.





	Old Money

 

Autumn fades in the afternoon at twilight, and the heiress Lodge climbs the low hill between Pembrooke and Thornhill with a dreary heart. Veronica knows what she will find between the two properties, sitting beneath the large cherry tree without flowers, the floor covered with tiny pink petals that she stares silently and melancholy in her red dress. Veronica knows that she will find tears cut by the wind down her cheeks, lips clenched in frustration. Veronica can almost see the thoughts hover over her head like they don't fit inside. 

Cheryl Blossom sitting under the cherry tree without flowers.

Cheryl knows she's coming too. She knows she will come touching the pearls on her neck in her navy-blue dress, her face distressed and distant, coming toward her, always back to her, almost every afternoon, ascending from a setting sun.

Veronica leans over her and kisses her forehead once, twice, thrice, inspiring the scent of her fiery hair. Cheryl sighs like the touch of her lips is washing all the grief of her soul and her left hand holds the brunette's wrist in a silent invitation for Veronica to sit with her.

The twilight continues to rise and soon to disappear, the cold announcing the night as a stern warning that they have no time, not enough.

Cheryl closes her eyes when she leans back against Veronica's chest, listening to the soft beating of her heart under her ear, Veronica's arm drawing her by the shoulder and the other hand gently tracing the redhead's jaw, a wordless request for her to soften the hardness on the muscle.

“I don’t think I’m able to do this, Ronnie. “ Cheryl's voice, always imposing and acid, sounds small and fearful, new tears dripping into the wind to cut.

“I know you’re not. “ Veronica whispers. “And this is so beautiful about you. You’re not like them. You’re not like me. You’re... Better. “

“Please don’t. “ Cheryl whines. “Don't you ever speak these unjust and horrible words again. You’re not like them either. You’re good, you’re kind, you care. “

“But I can do this, Cheryl. “ Her sweet hurtful smile knocks the redhead down. “I will do this. I’m ready. I’ve always been ready. “

“But you’re going to make it better. You’re going to prevent shed innocent blood. You’re going to protect families, give better payments and bulletproof vests to the henchmen. You're going to contain the consumption and avoid the risks. How can you say you’re like anyone of them? You can do this because you’re good and you're stronger than anyone I know. “

Cheryl finishes her speech and looks at her like she's the most precious existence the redhead has ever seen and Veronica can't resist or stop herself. She pulls on her neck and kiss her like it's the last time. Cheryl moans in her mouth and curls her fingers into her black hair, arching to press against her body urgently, so tired of hurting, so tired of being afraid, wishing she could just stay there, sliding her tongue into hers, becoming numb until there's no hint of sanity in her mind.

Veronica feels like she's on fire, Cheryl's flavor making her weak and desperate, Maple Red staining her lips, her face, her chin, down to her collarbone, a bite right there that makes her tremble.

“Are you going to hate me and despise me if I fail? “ Cheryl murmurs on her skin, hidden from her eyes.

"Hate you? Despise you? " Veronica almost cries, holding her tightly. "How could I ever? You're the only one in this twisted world who doesn't make me feel hate, the only one who makes me not despise myself. 

"Say it... " Cheryl gumbles, biting her collarbone again, right upon the pearls.

Veronica scratchs her nails on the back of Cheryl's neck and forces her to stare deep in her eyes, burning like a million suns, belonging to her, always hers.

“I love you, Cheryl Blossom. “ She whispers softly. 

Cheryl turns around up on her body, riding her, kissing her deeply, the noses almost smashing, bruises on her shoulders, hickeys down her ear, her thighs spread and warm over hers, driving her crazy, the sunset's gone, the night falls and they can't stop.

“Well, well, aren't they rushed enough? “ A hoarse voice interrupts them, pulling them away from each other, Cheryl's red lipstick stained on their faces. “Why so anxious? You're getting married tomorrow. " Hermione teases, her hands on the pockets.

"Mom... " Veronica blushes. "Privacy, please?"

"Fine. " The woman leaves, a smile on her face. "Come home soon, hija. "

Veronica turns back to Cheryl, wiping the red stain from her face and picking the red lipstick from the pocket of the redhead's dress to fix her lips, receiving a sweet smile in return. 

"Tomorrow. " Veronica hugs her softly. "I promise it will get better. And I'll always be with you. "

"This isn't just an evil agreement between our families, Ronnie. Not for me. I'm going to marry you because I love you, Veronica Cecilia Lodge. Please, never doubt of this truth, no matter the circumstances. " 

"I love you too, Cheryl Marjorie Blossom. " The brunette smiles, her eyes glowing. "My future wife. "

"I adore how it sounds. " Cheryl closes her eyes, lowering her forehead on hers. "Can I keep you here with me? Just for a moment longer? " She asks.

Veronica wraps her arms around her waist and sighs against her lips.

"I'm yours. "

 

_The power of youth is on my mind._

_Sunset, small town, I'm out of time..._

_Will you still love me when I shine from words, but not from beauty?_

 

Next day at dawn, everything is impeccable.

The Blossoms didn't care, but the Lodges required a Catholic ceremony. A young singer of the new stardom, Josephine McCoy, who went high school with Cheryl and has a lot of esteem for the redhead, chants delicate and divine, the golden key to the beauty of the cathedral of the vast Lodge property.

There are many flowers and Veronica thinks that at least there was delicacy from her parents, as both she and Cheryl love flowers. The guests are business partners, mafiosi, businessmen, and she bet, some drug dealers, even gun dealers.

She doesn't care about the guests, though.

Veronica only cares about Cheryl and Cheryl only cares about Veronica.

Veronica's dress is white and pearly, sleeveless, brightening the gloomy cathedral. Cheryl's dress is white with small scarlet rubies studded at the bust and the long sleeves.

And suddenly no one else exists in the cathedral anymore, nor the parents, nor their relatives, nor business partners, nothing, not even the bishop and his oratory. Once their eyes are connected to each other, everything fades and disappears.

Their vows are traditional. There's nothing they want to share in everyone's eyes.

For Penelope and Hiram, it's just business. To them, Cheryl and Veronica feel nothing truthful about each other, they just fulfill the destiny inherited by the blood obediently. Clifford and Hermione, on the other hand, know that there is a flame, an unavoidable attraction, perhaps a very old legacy between Lodges and Blossoms they themselves don't know.

None of the families knows what's in their hearts.

In the silence of the vows, plunging into each other's eyes, Veronica and Cheryl know. They know the love. They can feel love radiate from their bodies and minds in a frighteningly unbreakable connection.

And that's enough.

"I, Veronica Cecilia Lodge, take you, Cheryl Marjorie Blosom, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life, until death do us part. "

"I, Cheryl Marjorie Blossom, take you, Veronica Cecilia Lodge, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life, until death do us part. "

"And we know how death can be regular on these families, don't we?" Jokes the Priest, making everyone laugh at the ceremony. 

But Veronica can't laugh. Her eyes are almost overflowing with tears and Cheryl hugs her, hiding her twisted face of the brunette's pain on her shoulder, whispering sweetness to calm her. Because it's not funny, it's not a joke, not for her.

Especially not when she knows the craft of their families very well.

The Lodges have always been responsible for the money, the negotiations and the strategies. The Blossoms, on the other hand, has always been in charge of supplies, intimidation and collect debts. Veronica is aware of what it means: Cheryl will take over the legacy Blossom. 

Cheryl will play the _most dangerous_ part.

When Cheryl slides the golden wedding ring on her finger, it still looks like the happiest day of the miserable life to which Veronica was entangled.

"By the power vested in me by God and the Holy Church, I now pronounce you Veronica Cecilia Lodge-Blossom and Cheryl Marjorie Lodge-Blossom, wives, Emperors and Ambassadors. You may kiss the bride... "

With Veronica still disoriented, Cheryl is the one who advances to hold her face gently and kiss her with the same fire that Veronica wants and needs, the fire that always consumes the world that oppresses them, that ignites all the fools around who dare to control their lives. Even when Hiram clenas his throat, Veronica gripps her tightly around Cheryl's waist and can hear nothing but her heartbeat and the bland sound coming from her throat in the kiss.

They're almost there. Just a few more steps.

The trail of white and black petals from the cathedral leaves leads them to the courtyard at Thornhill, to the reception of the feast full of whiskey, champagne and waltz. Cheryl dances with Clifford and Veronica feels her fingers tingle with her lack, the same feeling consuming Cheryl when Veronica dances with Hiram.

Insipid dances.

Insignificant wedding gifts.

Inaudible promises of honor from the subordinates.

Hiram tries to guide Veronica to an important magnate to discuss the beginning of her empire, but Cheryl clings to her with flaming eyes to her father-in-law, who recoils immediately, almost intimidated.

Penelope tries to squeeze Cheryl's elbow to demand that she smile more sympathetically at the guests, but Veronica holds her wife in her arms, warning with a scowl that the woman doesn't dare touch her.

So she will not dare touch her _ever again_.

They dance through the night and no one else interrupts them. Hermione tells some investors about how she wanted Hiram just for herself on the night of her wedding, and Veronica listens to her murmurs with disgust, because she can't compare herself to her parents, or even Cheryl's parents, none of them can understand what it means to them or how they feel right now.

Veronica and Cheryl know that from this day they are doomed to keep the family business, know that they are destined to be the Queens of the New York Mafia and all the risk and responsibility that the deal requires.

And as Cheryl confided, she doesn't believe she can handle all the horror of this life her parents exhibit as a trophy, the life that even made her brother run away from home at sixteen and never come back, leaving her alone until finally her world crosses with Veronica Lodge.

And Veronica, though willing to bear all the consequences as long as she is with Cheryl, feels revving her stomach with the possibility of having her reputation preceded as that of Hiram: monstrous, heartless, ruthless, selfish.

Cruel.

Cheryl fears that this life will destroy them.

She fears losing Veronica to this heinous world that surrounds them.

Veronica only fears losing her, simply.

When Veronica entwines their fingers in the last dance, the golden rings glittering against each other, and kisses her caste and softly, the tacit promise that she will not lose her almost echoes to redhead as salvation.

 

 

_I'll run to you, I'll run to you,_

_I'll run, run, run..._

_I'll come to you, I'll come to you,  
_

_I'll come, come, come..._

 

 

The end of their night has a specific destination: The Lodge's Lake House.

Relieved to finally get away from the vultures and lions, Veronica leans back on the padded seat and repeatedly kiss Cheryl's shoulder as the redhead drives her Chevrolet Impala 61 'and the radio sounds low, none of them longing for silence, but also unwilling to break the atmosphere of intimacy with no words that embraced them.

The burden imposed by their parents seems increasingly distant as the car slowly descends the hill and parks near the cozy and already lit house, the warm fireplace waiting.

Cheryl picks up the keys in the compartment and leaves her behind. Veronica wonders if the redhead is truly happy, wishing she had waited for her to carry her properly inside. With the thoughts spinning uncontrolled in her mind, however, she doesn't ask.

Not until find her inside the house.

The brunette almost stumbles on the carpet in the foyer bringing the last suitcase in, just in time to see Cheryl's dress slipping off her creamy shoulders, revealing nothing but pale skin glowing with the light from fireplace's flames. The redhead slips her hair under her right shoulder and her chin rests on her right shoulder, her eyes sidelong to Veronica's gaping gape behind her.

Veronica closes the door quietly and rests her back on it, slowly undoing herself from her own dress, her lacy lingerie pulling out a heavy sigh from Cheryl.

They don't even have time to get to the main suite.

It starts right there, in front of the fireplace, with Veronica's fingernails tearing at the fuzzy rug as Cheryl's mouth devours her, hands clutching her breasts, lost between her thighs, her arms firmly holding her open and surrendered.

Then Veronica catches her before Cheryl can climb the stairs, pressing her against the wall, her face flushed against the stone, letting out a panting gasp, only the darkness and the stars at the window view in the night sky and then exploding in her eyes when Veronica uses her fingers, slapping her butt, sliding the fingers inside her, tight, warm, needing more than ever to hear her scream her climax where no one else but Veronica can hear her.

They aren't free, not yet, they both know, but this is the greatest freedom experienced.

Entwined in velvet sheets, countless orgasms, cracked nostrils, red-striped backs, and watery eyes of the ultimate enjoyment, when they come to each other, fast, hallucinating, more alive than ever, is the greatest freedom experienced.

Cheryl falls asleep exhausted in Veronica's arms. Veronica, however, can't sleep, contemplating her satisfied and happy wife, a soft smile adorning her face, Veronica'a heart burning with adoration for her.

Veronica knows that she wants and needs her like this for the rest of her life, and from this truth comes her most drastic decision, the most damaging of the risks, the most pernicious of the wars.

She gets up, tying the robe's cord, crawling carefully off the bed and picking up an unopened disposable cell phone in her purse. She sits down on the mattress and removes some stray red strands from Cheryl's face, caressing her warm skin, wary of not waking her from her dreams that she longs for, are beautiful and filled with a peace that the redhead deserves and which Veronica wants to give to her.

Veronica wants to give her everything that her heart desires most.

With one last sigh, she dials the number and waits for it to ring.

"Miss Lodge." A discreet female voice sounds from the other side.

"Mrs. Mrs. Lodge-Blossom." Veronica corrects proudly.

"Mrs. Lodge-Blossom." The woman accepts. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"I am," she determines, her fingers dropping to caress Cheryl's bare arm, still asleep, on the sheets. "Did you contact your FBI man?"

"Agent Keller is in it. He wants a successful operation and I want the story of my career, but what do you get out of it?"

"I have my interests, Miss Cooper. The only guarantee I demand for my exclusive services is full protection for my wife."

"You have a deal, Mrs.Lodge-Blossom. Is there anyone you can trust? Because I'm sure you don't want to involve your wife in this, even though she's the heiress of Blossom's Maple Farm, what we know, behind the facade, to provide Chinese weapons to all East Coast gangs. "

"I have one man in my pocket and one man is all I need. Forsythe Pendleton Jones. "

"FP Jones? Are you serious, Lodge? "

"Lodge-Blossom, Miss Cooper."

"The King Serpent? Those Serpents? "

"The Serpents are a different kind, they're not like half of these local gangs, crawling and licking Hiram Lodge's boots. They're hard to deal with, their services are expensive, and their loyalty doesn't belong to anyone."

"I'll trust you, Mrs. Lodge-Blossom, but you know it will not be easy and will inevitably make victims along the way."

"Please, Miss Cooper." Veronica snorts. "Taking down the New York Mafia is something that neither the police nor the media nor the FBI itself has ever dreamed of doing, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for all of us in each of our own terms."

"Very well." She seems to respect Veronica's determination. "When can we start? "

"Gather your investigations and find me a safe way to communicate with your agent Keller. Soon you will hear from me. Now I have to go back. I have a flight to Paris tomorrow early. I'm on my honeymoon, after all. "

She can't help but smile, hearing a small laugh on the other side.

"Congratulations on your wedding, Mrs. Lodge-Blossom."

The call ends and Veronica immediately smashes the phone and rips off the chip to plunges it into a small glass jar reinforced inside her purse. Sulfuric acid. No one can know, no one can suspect, not even Cheryl. Veronica wants to end all the horror without damaging this beautiful woman who gave her heart on her hands.

She leans on the bed and gently kisses Cheryl's forehead.

"All your dreams will come true, Lady Lodge-Blossom. And soon we'll be free, my love. This is my gift for you. This is my sacrifice. " 

She lies down again to hold redhead in her arms and finally fall asleep.

This is for her. For the both of them. For their love, their future.

No one can know. No one can suspect.

Because she's doing this. She's ready.

For Cheryl?

She has _always_ been ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think this kind of plot deserves more chapters, but I just can't keep going right now. With the Serpents involved I would eventually bring Toni and my heart can't stand writing a Cheronica story with Toni in it (i'm weak okay) and I'm not too good with triangles. But I hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> See you guys soon. Find me on twitter: @dokkstormur


End file.
